READ
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.
When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Luke 19:1-10
REFLECT
When asking Jesus what he had to say to me, to us, about joy this week, I literally laughed out loud when an unlikely picture from my childhood emerged. Surely not, Jesus!?
In my mind’s eye, the flannelgraph came alive as felt shape layered upon felt shape – first a tree, then an ancient building, then the crowd, and then Jesus. Oh! But what’s this? A short little tax collector clamouring up a tree to be able to see better…
Lord, what could Zacchaeus possibly have to teach me about joy?
Even as a young child, Zacchaeus struck me as someone surprisingly and genuinely glad to encounter Jesus. His story stood apart in my mind because there was no obvious healing or miraculous intervention to speak of to account for this little man’s utter delight. In fact, from my limited, child-like perspective, it seemed like his encounter actually cost him quite a bit, financially speaking. What was I missing?
Within the context, Zaccheaus would have belonged to a group of people almost universally despised in the Greco-Roman world. He was a Jew. He was a ruler. He was a toll collector. And he was wealthy. His vocation and accompanying misdeeds would have surely stigmatized him and alienated him from the community, reasonably so.
And yet, there is a longing for something different we see in Zaccheaus that draws him right into the heart of a contemptuous crowd. What had he heard about this Jesus? What was he hoping to see? What compelled a man of his stature and position to climb a tree and wait for a glimpse of a travelling prophet?
In the most surprising of interactions, Jesus rewards Zaccheaus’ curiosity and persistence by insisting on breaking bread with and receiving hospitality from this notorious outsider, subverting countless social norms and sensibilities. Zaccheaus receives the gift of sight, of seeing and being seen, and a salvation marked by restoration to the community of God’s people.
Surely in order to capitalize on his power and privilege, Zaccheaus had long given up on the possibility of being embraced in warm fellowship. To accumulate wealth through dishonorable gain had likely led to a lonely, small and self-centered existence facilitated by a numbing of his own humanity. And what is left for a person to pursue when their heart has gone cold and numb? Shallow happiness. Packaged and purchased pleasure. Distraction. Entertainment. All poor replacements for true joy.
But Jesus. One encounter with Jesus and it is as if Zaccheaus is revived from a long, dreary slumber. He comes alive with gladness and delight that moves him to action, justice and radical restitution. There is no cost too high for the joy set before him – for Jesus who stands before him.
It is unpleasant to consider my own self-centeredness: I’d much rather look away.
It is painful to feel the impact of my choices and those of others: I’d much rather stay numb and cold and unfeeling.
It is inconvenient to abandon vain pursuits of happiness in favour of slowly cultivating lasting joy: I’d much rather chase instant gratification.
Or, so I think. Because when actually I stop long enough to get a glimpse of the true person of Joy, the illusions drop. When I see Jesus coming my way and he stops, he looks at me, he calls my name, and he invites me to come eat with him, the cost of the kingdom is overshadowed by the glory of it. He surprises me with the very things that I once thought were too far gone or lost. Joy grows. And wherever joy grows, so does justice.
Maybe Zacchaeus and I have more in common than I thought…
DISCUSS
Are you more likely to settle for numbness or substitute JOY with happiness?
How does self-centeredness show up in your life?
PRACTICE
Listen | Jesus, what do you want to say about JOY in my life?
Write down specifics - memories, words, phrases, lies, attitudes.
Ask | Jesus, awaken me to the ability to be surprised by JOY.
Give Thanks | Read Every Moment Holy's A Liturgy for Embracing both Joy and Sorrow as an act of worship to Jesus for being the full embodiment of JOY.
RESPOND
This week, embrace JOY by doing something restorative in the community – give out of your abundance, make something right, perform a selfless act, etc.
Jesus, what are you asking me to do this week?
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